John Leech, His Life and Work Volume II Part 9

It will be remembered that at the time of the Papal aggression Lord John Russell, according to Leech, chalked "No Popery" on Cardinal Wiseman's door and then ran away. In the "Bon Gaultier Ballads" we find his lordship face to face with Cardinal Wiseman, disguised as a friar, in Sherwood Forest, where Little John is supposed to reign in place of Robin Hood, deceased. The ballad is ent.i.tled "Little John and the Red Friar," and begins:

"The deer may leap within the glade, The fawns may follow free-- For Robin is dead, and his bones are laid Beneath the greenwood tree.

"Now, Little John was an outlaw proud, A prouder ye never saw; Through Nottingham and Leicestershires He thought his word was law, And he strutted through the greenwood wide Like a pestilent jackdaw.

"Now, word had come to Little John, As he lay upon the gra.s.s, That a friar red was in merry Sherwood Without his leave to pa.s.s."

Little John inquires from his little foot-page what manner of man is this burly friar who intrudes into his domain.

"'My master good,' the little page said, 'His name I wot not well; But he wears on his head a hat so red, With a monstrous scallop-sh.e.l.l.

"'He says he is Prior of Copmanhurst, And Bishop of London town, And he comes with a rope from our Father the Pope To put the outlaws down.'"

Little John searches the forest for his scarlet enemy--

"O'er holt and hill, through brake and breere, He took his way alone.

"Then Little John, he strutted on, Till he came to an open bound, And he was aware of a Red Friar Was sitting upon the ground.

"His shoulders they were broad and strong, And large was he of limb; Few yeomen in the north countrie Would care to mell with him.

"'What dost thou here, thou strong friar, In Sherwood's merry round, Without the leave of Little John To range with hawk and hound?'

"'Small thought have I,' quoth the Red Friar, 'Of any leave, I trow; But Little John is an outlawed thief, And so, I ween, art thou!

"'Know I am, I am Prior of Copmanhurst, And Bishop of London town, And I bring a rope from our Father the Pope To put the outlaws down.'

"Then out spoke Little John in wrath, 'I tell thee, burly frere, The Pope may do as he likes at home, But he sends no Bishops here!'"

"'Up and away, Red Friar,' he said, 'Up and away right speedilie; And were it not for that cowl of thine, Avenged on thy body I would be!'

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"'Nay, heed not that,' said the Red Friar, 'And let my cowl no hindrance be; I warrant I can give as good As ever I take from thee!'

"Little John he raised his quarter-staff, And so did the burly priest; And they fought beneath the greenwood tree A stricken hour at least."

Little John gets much the worst of the fight, and endeavours to come to terms with the Red Friar:

"'There's some mistake, good friar,' he said; 'There's some mistake 'twixt thee and me; I know thou art Prior of Copmanhurst, But not beneath the greenwood tree.

"'And if you will take some other name, You shall have ample time to bide; With pasture also for your Bulls, And power to range the forest wide.'

"'There's no mistake!' the friar said; 'I'll call myself just what I please: My doctrine is that chalk is chalk, And cheese is nothing else but cheese.'

"'So be it then!' quoth Little John"

from his refuge in the tree, to which, according to Leech, he has been tossed by the Popish Bull.

Cardinal Wiseman, as I remember him, was a huge burly figure, not unlike Leech's drawing; a stronger resemblance to Lord John can be traced in the swaggering little figure in the first ill.u.s.tration and also in the second.

Most of the "Bon Gaultier Ballads" are ill.u.s.trated by Doyle and other hands. Leech's contributions are confined to four of them. The next from which I select drawings is called "The Rhyme of Sir Launcelot Bogle." It appears that "this valiant knight, most terrible in fight," had married the sister of another valiant knight named George of Gorbals, and with his bride he had retired to his castle near Glasgow. For some reason or other this marriage was very distasteful to the brother of the bride--so distasteful, indeed, that nothing but the blood of Sir Launcelot would wipe out the disgrace. In pursuit of his revenge, George of Gorbals armed his followers and approached the castle, where

"A donjon keep arose, that might baffle any foes, With its men-at-arms in rows On the towers.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"And the flag that flaunted there showed the grim and grizzly bear, Which the Bogles always wear for their crest.

And I heard the warder call, as he stood upon the wall, 'Wake ye up! my comrades all, From your rest!

"'For, by the blessed rood, there's a glimpse of armour good In the deep Cowcaddens Wood, o'er the stream; And I hear the stifled hum of a mult.i.tude that come, Though they have not beat the drum, It would seem!

"'Go tell it to my lord, lest he wish to man the ford With partisan and sword just beneath; Ho, Gilkison and Nares! Ho, Provan of Cowlairs!

We'll back the bonny bears To the death.'

"To the towers above the moat, like one who heedeth not, Came the bold Sir Launcelot, half undressed; On the outer rim he stood, and peered into the wood, With his arms across him glued On his breast.

"And he muttered, 'Foe accurst, thou hast dared to seek me first?

George of Gorbals, do thy worst; for I swear O'er thy gory corpse to ride, ere thy sister and my bride From my undissevered side Thou shalt tear!'"

Sir Launcelot, not being sure that Cowcaddens Wood really hides his mortal enemy, despatches a "herald stout," accompanied by

"Sir Roderick Dalgleish, and his foster-brother Neish, With his bloodhounds in the leash,"

to see whether the party in the wood are friends or foes. All doubt on the subject is put to rest by a shower of arrows which

"Sped their force, and a pale and bleeding corse He (the herald) sank from off his horse On the plain!

"Back drew the bold Dalgleish, back started stalwart Neish, With his bloodhounds in the leash from Brownlee.

'Now shame be to the sword that made thee knight and lord, Thou caitiff thrice abhorred, Shame on thee!'"

After this burst of not unnatural rage at the unhandsome treatment of a herald, whose office should have made his person sacred, Sir Launcelot gives orders that there must be

"'Forthwith no end of those heavy bolts; Three angels to the brave who finds the foe a grave, And a gallows for the slave Who revolts!'

"Ten days the combat lasted; but the bold defenders fasted, While the foemen, better pastied, fed their host; You might hear the savage cheers of the hungry Gorbaliers, As at night they dressed the steers For the roast.

"And Sir Launcelot grew thin, and Provan's double chin Showed sundry folds of skin down beneath; In silence and in grief found Gilkison relief, Nor did Neish the spell-word 'beef'

Dare to breathe."